Five Years Later: A Lesson in Resilience, Trust, and Moving Forward

These days, it hit me—five years. Five years since the world, and my life, turned upside down.

It was early 2020, and I was a bit more than six months into the ODI Fellowship program in Sierra Leone - a program for economists offering two-year placements as a public servant in partner country governments. Just a few months earlier, I had made the decision to double down on my life there—I was committed. I had started to envision staying beyond the initial two years. I invested in friendships, transitioned from a Ministry at the national level to the Mayor’s Delivery Unit at the Freetown City Council, and even got a car and a surfboard—securing all the little things that turn a place into home.

A picture taken at the car park in front of the apartment I was living in, in Freetown early January 2020 - right after I had purchased my car.

And then, in March, borders started closing. Within days, we were asked to leave.

If you know me, you know that when I set my mind on something, I rarely waver. So, naturally, I debated, argued, and pushed back, determined to stay. But there was no way around it—I found myself on one of the last flights out of Sierra Leone. Where to? Germany with only a small bag, firmly believing this would be a short trip. Little did I know that those few weeks would turn into almost eight months of waiting.

I had gone through difficult times before, but nothing quite like this: I had just turned 30 and was sitting on my parents’ couch. Friends, gyms, yoga studios, travel, the ocean—everything that once anchored me was suddenly out of reach. And work? Since I was in the middle of my transition between institutions, work streams had not yet solidified and zoom calls were not immediately on the agenda. In sum: Life felt… pretty grim.

Fast Forward Five Years

(And wow, how fast time flies.)

Today, I have a steady base in Cologne, a city I had always dreamt of living in. I’ve grown within C40 Cities, an organization where I feel I truly belong, and built an expertise in city climate action planning. I’ve trained as a coach and mentor, fulfilling a long-held dream, and even started my own online business. Also, I became a surfer, a hobby that brings me such joy!

Life changed in an instant back then, and all I wanted was to go back to where I was before. But eventually, I had to accept the truth: there was no way back. The only way was forward, no matter how uncertain or unknown that path looked.

And let me tell you—accepting that wasn’t easy, nor did it happen quickly (friends and family will likely can confirm).

Trusting the Path You Can’t See Yet

This experience—hitting rock bottom and slowly rebuilding—reminds me of my resilience. It’s something I lean on in uncertain times, when my default mode is to overthink, overplan, and analyze every possible outcome and option. It reminds me to trust in all the things I cannot imagine yet and simply move forward, day by day.

To plant seeds where my intuition leads me.

And to hope for the best.

...a metaphor my mentor at C40 shared with me recently, with which I can truly resonate.

A Letter to My Future Self

Lumley beach bar in Freetown

A small side note to wrap this up: Just before my flight out of Sierra Leone, I sat at one of the beach bars Lumley beach and wrote a letter to my 10-years-older self. My roommate in Freetown back then, Gilly, did the same, and we promised each other that in 10 years, we’d send each other our letters.

Five years down.

Five more to go.

Curious to see where life will take me—and how it compares to what I envisioned back then!

Lumley beach in Freetown at sunset